The first 48 hours.
Something that has been on my mind since we arrived in Guatemala is re-entry. Re-entering into American culture, my family, my language, modern conveniences – there was a lot to think about. Though I tried not to let these things consume me in my final months, many times I found myself dreaming about America. I would reset my expectations often, and then focus on being hyper-aware of my current surroundings. The man sitting next to me on the bus who smells like pizza and beer? I won’t see him again after this. The leaky bus window and obnoxious music? Two common annoyances I will soon miss. Sometimes I would laugh to myself when I really took a step back and looked at my situation as an outsider. I knew I would miss public transportation, weird ministry hosts, dancing in village concerts because the pastor asked you to (Nepal), cutting Christmas cakes every night (India), and rats scurrying through the classroom during math lessons (Guatemala).
Well, here I am. Home. It has not been easy, but I didn’t expect it to be. The first 48 hours were the hardest. If you did not hear about the Volcano Fuego eruptions, I was delayed by 2 days because the airport was closed due to ash. The journey home started Sunday afternoon, but I didn’t land in Seattle until 12am Thursday morning. Plans change, flights get cancelled, sometimes you wear the same outfit (my “clean” travel home clothes) for 4 straight days because you aren’t supposed to unpack. I knew my original flight home was too good to be true. The half of the group that couldn’t fly out until Wednesday kept our spirits high, and we made the best of our unfortunate situation. Looking back, I would say those unexpected days at the base were my favorite days in Guatemala.
Wednesday at 10:30am, I landed in Houston, where I spent the day with friends because my next flight wasn’t until 9:30pm. Saying goodbye to the squad who had connecting flights was maybe the hardest day of the World Race. There were people I couldn’t even look at because I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them. I had to walk fast from baggage claim because I didn’t want the sobfest to follow me, I have to rip the bandaid off, no matter how painful. Here is a small list of things that shocked me immediately after leaving the airport:
-
English everywhere
-
Smooth roads
-
Cars. Fancy, clean, automatic transmission.
-
Clean roads, no garbage anywhere
-
People have fashion
-
I don’t have fashion like I thought I did
-
USD!!
-
My weird norms are no longer norms (i.e. putting on deodorant in front of strangers, crossing the road wherever and however, not flushing toilet paper, wearing Chacos)
I was with my southern friends, so we went from IAH to Chick-fil-a, and then to an airbnb they had rented for a couple nights. Of course we had to carry our packs around in the Houston heat, and people immediately asked if we were camping. I think it was the awkward bags and weird clothes combo that made them assume camping, because most world travelers on social media make it look easy. After unloading our bags at our very nice Houston, we shopped at Whole Foods. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry upon walking into that glorious store of dreadlocks and goat milk soaps. The diversity of people, amount of food and choices, and the fact I could understand everything going on around me was incredibly overwhelming. I pulled myself together and got what I needed as quickly as possible, and I haven’t really been in a grocery store since. Part of what made the transition so hard was my lack of sleep, at that point I hadn’t had more than 4 consecutive hours of sleep since Sunday night. Since shopping was so hard I tried to take a nap in the amazing airbnb bed, but I ended up watching all of Casey’s Nepal vlogs and crying because I miss him, Nepal, and reality of the race being over was setting in.
Being in Houston was fun, and I’m glad I got to spend time with my friends off of the World Race in a new city. I flew to Seattle late, and my family picked me up. I was so shell-shocked and exhausted it wasn’t really the reunion I think anyone was expecting. I had no tears left when I saw them, but describing how overwhelmed I felt brought a new wave of emotion. Thursday brought new challenges and old experiences that were foreign still. Despite being in my own bed, it didn’t feel like home, and I slept in my sleeping bag for 2 nights. Tossing my toilet paper in the trash is hard habit to break, and I keep washing my dishes with my hands instead of putting them in the dishwasher. It’s funny how quickly I slipped back into old routines, but rather than doing them in the efficient American way, I default to my other world techniques. Neither way is wrong to me, but one is not easily accepted here.
People are more overwhelming to me than experiences, and I want you to know that though I want to see everyone again, I need time. I need more time to process my answers to your burning questions. I don’t have a favorite country as of now, I don’t know of a crazy God-story for every country, because I haven’t processed all my experiences yet. It took until 2 weeks ago to be able to look at my Nepal pictures, because it was such a difficult time for me. As our Nepali host Gresom would say about a wild bus ride, “so much so much so much.” That describes how I feel right now. Please know that I love you all very much, and I am looking forward to seeing you all again and hearing about your past year!
